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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466498">you're vulnerable, you're vulnerable (you are not a robot)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quickquackquill/pseuds/quickquackquill'>quickquackquill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dual Destinies - Fandom, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Ace Attorney Secret Ally 2020, Cyberpunk AU, F/F, Gyakuten Saiban 5 | Dual Destinies Spoilers, M/M, Neo Olde Tokyo, No One In This Is Straight, Pride Parade, Robots, i'm sorry i don't make the rules, klapollo - Freeform, pride month, robots everywhere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:33:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,367</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quickquackquill/pseuds/quickquackquill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Apollo runs into Klavier, and one time Klavier runs into him. Written for the Ace Attorney Secret Ally 2020 swap, for the prompt "cyberpunk AU Klapollo".</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey/Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma, Garyuu Kyouya | Klavier Gavin/Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. it's okay to say you've got a weak spot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey! I’m your Ace Attorney Secret Ally! I’ve never written Klapollo before, and I was super excited to try cyberpunk as it’s an aesthetic I’ve never read much of before. I hope I did it justice! (Pun intended.) I tried my best to make you something you’d like; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Fic + chapter titles from Marina's song "I am Not a Robot".</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Apollo wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here.</p><p><br/>Well, to be honest, he was only too aware of how he’d ended up on this stupid wild goose chase: Trucy had been experimenting with some new circuitry for Mr. Hat all day, only emerging from her corner of the office to flash her bright blue puppy-dog eyes at Apollo and ask him to <em>pretty pretty please grab her some high-density coolant from the stand down the road, and maybe a bite to eat as well? Some of Mr. Hat’s parts overheated and so I kind of, uh...maybe moved everything out of the fridge to put them in there? And so all our food….kinda sorta went bad? Don’t be mad, Polly, Dad said it was okay!</em><br/>“Phoenix would give you the go-ahead on building a bomb in the apartment, Trucy,” Apollo said sarcastically, ducking as Trucy threw a screwdriver at him in indignation. “I was going to pick up some new interfaces for the Pride festival anyway, maybe get everyone in the mood for celebrating.”<br/>“It’s always a party around here, Polly!” Trucy chirped, ducking beneath a mess of wood and machinery, pulling her datapad down with her. “But that sounds fun! Athena wanted to come over and celebrate with us, something about making sure Daddy doesn’t burn off his eyebrows trying to light the digital fireworks...Oh, and can you pass me my multitool?”<br/>“Fine, just don’t go blowing the power out for the block. I don’t think the superintendent will be too happy if it happens a second time.” Apollo kicked the multitool in Trucy’s direction and left to the sound of Trucy yelling <em>it was only one time!</em> At his retreating back.<br/>Apollo blinked open his planner as he pulled Clay’s coat over his small frame, making sure that it hid his prosthetic arm. He felt a twinge up his left side as he slipped his arms through the sleeves, and he grimaced, unready to face what would surely be a city fully overcrowded by both man and machine.<br/>“Poll-E, check weather and traffic.”<br/>A blue screen filled the right side of his vision as the familiar cheery voice echoed, <em>Good morning, Apollo! Today’s weather is a bright and sunny 37 degrees Celsius, with minimal clouds and the usual density of overhead traffic. It seems like there was an incident on transport route #W-863, so locals are advised to take alternate routes if possible. Any other requests?</em><br/>Apollo groaned as he slipped on his shoes. It was always the sunny afternoons that made his joints ache. He’d have to check and see if any of the usual sellers had that weird prosthetic goo that smelled like raspberries.<br/>“Nope. Set visuals to normal and lay on the shade, if you can.”<br/><em>Right away, Apollo! Setting all visual prosthetics to Normal 02 setting...UV and direct light protection enhanced.</em> He could hear the soft whirr of the prosthetic holoscreens, imitating the vibrancy of the skin that had once been there, and his vision darkened as the optics in his eyes adjusted for the bright light outside.<br/>“How do I look?” He asked no one in particular. He hoped he looked normal. Normal was safe. However, normalcy was a luxury that the Wrights couldn’t afford. At the time of the incident, they’d done the best they could, but there was always that fear. That someone would notice the faint shimmer of his prosthetics, that someone would stare for a second too long at his arm...Not that anyone had ever noticed, but it would be a fool’s gamble to venture out into the city in broad daylight with certain...below-the-board modifications like his.<br/><em>Very dashing, if I do say so myself,</em> Poll-E chirped in his head, and Apollo bit back a grin.<br/>“Well, we’d better not keep anyone waiting,” he laughed, and walked out into the traffic and the noise and the sun.</p><p><br/>Apollo rarely went out, anymore; his studies had kept him busy before, and with Poll-E and his arm now, it was best if he stayed unnoticed. He had all he needed at the Wright agency. Trucy and Mr. Hat. Phoenix. Occasionally Athena and Junie, and whatever rotating cast of clients they were consulting at the time. People who came to them rarely batted an eye at Apollo’s clunky arm or the gaggle of teenage girls that lived in the apartment or Mr. Hat’s parts in the fridge.<br/>Despite his initial hesitation, Apollo couldn’t say that he didn’t miss the city. The sky of Neo Olde Tokyo had been set to electric blue today, and clouds floated across the sky, wispy clumps of pixels advertising the new Blue Badger cartoon, the latest model of personal android. Sellers hollered at the surging crowd of bypassers from their stands, their rickety storefronts stacked to the edge of the sky, the tracks of larger cargo fliers and bullet trains weaving between them. Dozens of droids crowded the sidewalk, from tiny messengers zipping around people’s faces like mosquitos to larger errand bots clunking from stand to stand, floating trays of purchases trailing not far behind. Apollo stepped over a gaggle of digital pets, a small shiba inu peeing streams of ones and zeros into a nearby drainage ditch.<br/>And of course, there was everyone else.<br/>Humans, short and tall, technopunks smoking from vapor rigs the size of small cats, blowing out clouds of smoke that shifted color or tasted like bananas, digicop programs blinking angrily on the screens of parked droids whose owners needed to pay for another fifteen minutes, buskers selling scrap parts or playing fragments of birdsong from cobbled-together street organs. Digital graffiti that disappeared when digicops scanned over it, only to reappear as e-taggers tried to outdo themselves with bolder, bigger art.<br/>At first, Apollo ventured out eagerly, riding the bullet train a few stops down to pick up Phoenix’s dry-cleaning, stopping by the stall next door to buy some decorations for the upcoming Pride parade. But the spectacle grew overwhelming quickly. The Wrights didn’t have any of the fancy hover-carriers, so Apollo was left to carry everything manually. The hooks on the coat hangers dug into his arm, and Apollo swiftly made finding pain relief the next job on his list. However, none of the stores nearby carried the prosthetic ointment he needed; as the sun crawled higher into the sky, the tingling in his left arm became a dull, persistent throb.<br/>Everyone seemed to be in the city today, and whether modded-out or plainsclothes, everyone had a place to be and seemed to be running at least fifteen minutes late. The crowds were overwhelming and cantankerous. People argued with the light taxis, trying to negotiate a lower fare before the slim white cars projected to the other side of the city. The air was full of haggling, children squealing as their parents tried to wrangle them, advertisements that scaled eighty-story buildings, a cacophony of light and sound competing to take up more space in the alleys between skyscrapers.<br/>Trucy’s request was a bust, too. He’d been to the store Trucy had described a couple of times before, usually grabbing a part or two or some new feature for her next magic trick. But the heat made his head ache, and he got turned around three times before he managed to find the damn place, squeezed in between a smokeshop and a digital cosmetics salon. The checkouts were still human-fronted, not the digital ones, and the shop owner insisted on arguing with him for half an hour over whether or not he had the coolant Trucy wanted.<br/>The transaction ended abruptly, when a few digicop androids wandered into the shop, their green retinal displays scanning every display with a clinical coldness. Apollo’s right hand started to sweat, and the ache in his left returned with a vigor. He slipped out of the shop as quietly as he could, with a pounding headache and smelling like e-cigs and nail varnish.<br/>Gritting his teeth, Apollo figured he’d cut his losses and head back home. Time had slipped by in a daze, the sun sinking lower over the horizon as programmed, and there were certain parts of the city Apollo definitely wanted to avoid when it got dark. If he was quick, he could probably stop by that noodle place Trucy loved so much and pick up dinner for everyone.<br/>Tired, sweaty, and ready to go home, Apollo slipped onto the boarding platform for the bullet train, watching the crowds stream through the gates while their tickets were scanned.<br/><em>I should have enough fare for the ride home,</em> Apollo thought, wondering if he’d refilled the credits on his pass for the train. Without thought, he walked through the gate as it scanned him.<br/>-ERROR: UNREGISTERED MACHINERY DETECTED. PLEASE STAND BY WHILE THE AUTHORITIES NEUTRALIZE THE SITUATION-, chimed a nearby speaker.<br/>“Shit,” Apollo said.<br/>“Please remain calm!” chimed a digicop that had deployed out of a port embedded in a nearby wall. “Failure to comply with protocol is strictly prohibited. Stand by while registration countermeasures are employed. Please remain calm!”<br/>Apollo, understandably, did not remain calm. He considered himself a moral...person, and before his incident he wouldn’t have given a second thought to following the monotonous, cool voice of the approaching swarm of digicops.<br/>But the incident had happened, and Clay was gone, and Apollo was standing on the bullet train platform clutching the lining of his coat with a metallic taste in his mouth.<br/>Apollo had also spent a lot of time around the Wright Everything Agency, whose clients (and respective consultants) were well-versed in...well, not disobeying the law per se, but maybe dodging it in their own respective ways. Very punk, Athena would have said. More like morally grey, Phoenix's voice retorted.<br/><em>Poll-E, map a route to all forms of transportation that don’t require ID, and get directions to the closest one that’ll get me the hell out of here,</em> Apollo thought, and he jumped off the platform and ran.<br/><em>You’ve got it, Apollo! Routing to: unregistered light taxi stop….estimated return time to Wright Everything Agency...sixteen minutes. Fare: 32 credits.</em><br/>“Thanks, Poll-E,” Apollo murmured, sliding down an alley and taking a sharp left down a street cluttered with shops. He swatted aside a swarm of messenger droids waiting outside a postage shop, ignoring their angry chirps as he surged onwards.<br/><em>Hang a left up here,</em> Poll-E chimed. Apollo spun on his heel and dashed down a street heavy with the smell of spices and exotic food, and his stomach growled.<br/>“Add a stop to the Steel Samurai Noodle House on the way back, Poll-E,” he said.<br/><em>On it! Added new destination to route: Steel Samurai Noodle House, Neo Olde Tokyo Sector 05-702. Oh, and Apollo?</em><br/>“Yes, Poll-E?” Apollo clutched his side, the warm summer air rasping through his lungs like a dull knife.<br/><em>I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but you might want to pick up the pace a bit.</em><br/>“I get it, I get it, I’m not as fast as I--” Apollo stopped mid sentence when he turned down a street to find a row of digicops idling in their charging ports. “Damnit!”<br/>The digicops noticed his outburst immediately, and their shrill sirens cut through the air as they all turned to face him.<br/>“Change of plan,” Apollo muttered, and ran full-speed in the other direction.<br/>The digicops were hot on his trail, no matter how many times Poll-E rerouted, taking him down tight back alleys, weaving in and out of shops, turning around poorly-lit streetcorners with flickering signs that cast the shadows of digicops ahead of him like sticky, warped monsters. For a tight, scared moment, Apollo thought about Trucy hearing about his capture through a news report, the faces of Phoenix and Athena and everyone he loved as he was taken away from them for good. He thought of Trucy, the way she’d pin her hair back when she was working on a tricky bug with Mr. Hat, the way she’d smiled and told him to hurry back and bring noodles.<br/><em>Like hell I’m leaving you,</em> Apollo thought. <em>Not now. Not</em> ever. Heart pumping wildly, panting and sweaty and wide-eyed, Apollo put everything he could into one final, last sprint.<br/><em>This one’s for you, Trucy,</em> he thought.<br/>And then he ran into a store.<br/>Well--not really into a store so much as through it, automatic doors chiming as he barged through the entrance, knocking over displays and slamming headfirst into a tall, blonde man in a tight-fitting coat.<br/>“Shit!” Apollo yelled.<br/><em>Crisis averted,</em> Poll-E said with its closest approximation to relief.<br/>“Pardon me,” said the blonde man.<br/>Apollo groaned, clutching at his head with his good arm. His heart was still jackhammering away in his chest, his legs were burning, and his arm felt like it was a moment away from falling off completely. Phoenix's dry-cleaning lay in piles around him, and he could taste something bitter and coppery in his mouth.<br/>Looking back, it was one hell of a first introduction.<br/>“Now, I’ve heard that few can resist the Gavin allure, but I never thought my charms would lead to something like this,” the man chuckled. Apollo glanced up at him, squinting through the haze of pain and exhaustion that clouded his mind. This...stranger...didn’t look mad, strangely enough. In fact, that sparkle in his blue eyes looked almost excited.<br/>“I’m uh...sorry, I really do, uh…” Apollo looked around from his sprawl on the floor and groaned, resting his head in his hands. He could almost hear his wallet sobbing. “I’m sorry for making such...a mess. Long day. What do I owe you?” He tried to stand up, but his legs had decided that they’d done enough, actually, and collapsed underneath him like a droid fresh off the factory line. “Just...give me a minute. Or twenty, maybe.”<br/>An elegant, blonde figure crowded into Apollo’s peripherals, and it took him a moment to help him figure out that it was the shop owner.<br/>“Oh, it is no problem, mein schatz. If more people as handsome as yourself decided to run into my shop like that every day, then I could not want for more.” Apollo heard the sound of clothes rustling, and a long, tanned hand appeared in his field of vision. “Come, let me help you up.”<br/>Ignoring the...flirtatious remark from the (probably crazy) man, Apollo tried to lift himself upwards once more. And yet again, he fell to the floor, landing on a display of cheap datascreens and sending dozens skittering to the floor. Cheeks flaming red, Apollo wondered why he hadn’t taken Athena up on her offer to install anti-perception masking on his prosthetics. He had never wanted to disappear so badly before. He forced himself to look up at the shop owner, who was staring at him with a strangely soft look of bemusement. Apollo’s face turned as red as his waistcoat.<br/>“I really must insist, Herr Forehead. Not only because you are so dashing, but I would also appreciate it if you stopped knocking over my displays,” the man said with a smile.<br/>If anything, the stranger’s odd kindness made Apollo even more frustrated. <em>Why aren’t you furious?</em> He thought. <em>If you knew what I was hiding you probably would’ve kicked me out on the spot.</em> But the man really didn’t seem upset, and Apollo couldn’t ignore the aching in his limbs. Biting back his pride, he took the man’s hand. It was warm and strong, and as soon as he was on his feet the man began collecting Phoenix’s things, placing them on the counter behind him, blonde hair falling into his face. All Apollo could do was stand and stare as the man cleaned up the overturned displays, the last few beams of artificial sun fading through the front windows as he sent a cleaning bot zipping across the floor.<br/>This was so...human. So tender and intimate, like watching someone get dressed. The man didn’t seem to mind Apollo’s gawking, pressing the bags back into his hands, humming something under his breath. It was only after the shop was as tidy as it had been before Apollo’s...interruption that the man smiled over at him again. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Herr Forehead? I do encourage you to have a look around.”<br/>“I should...I should go.” Finally, Apollo’s throat seemed to work again. “I’m so sorry for making such a mess, I really can pay you for anything that’s broken--”<br/>“Fine,” the man said, and for some reason Apollo’s heart sank a bit. “I will accept some payment, though it is against policy to feel so...enamored with a customer.”<br/>“How much do you need?” Apollo asked, mentally calling Poll-E to pull up his dismal funds. He cringed. There definitely weren’t going to be any big city trips in the near future, that was for sure.<br/>But the man only laughed. “The only currency I’ll accept is you promising to return again. It is rarely so often that I get visitors as interesting as you.”<br/>Apollo blushed (why was he blushing?) and turned to say something, but just then Poll-E brought up an alert that said, <em>Digicops only three blocks away from here, Apollo. I’ve pinged ahead to the light taxi stop and they have a car ready. Cost for transport: 78 credits. Accept transaction?</em><br/>Apollo looked at the shop owner--this kind, blond man who had helped him up, called him nicknames like an old friend in some forgotten language, refused any payment except his company.<br/>It had been...a while since a stranger had been so kind. For some reason, Apollo’s heart hurt at the thought of leaving the cluttered shop, braving the chaos of the world outside. But from the corner of his eye, he could see a cluster of digicops patrolling the street corners. He couldn’t afford to stay, as much as he wanted to.<br/><em>Go ahead and wire the credits through. You’re the best, Poll-E,</em> Apollo thought, and his heart started to pound again as he dashed out the door without a glance behind him. He could see the green flickering of digicops not far behind, and blood roared in his chest as he ran for the transport stop.<br/>If he had bothered to look behind him, he would have seen the blonde man smile wistfully, hoping the handsome young man in the oversized coat would visit him once again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. you don't always have to be on top</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, you run into Mr. Tall, Blonde and Handsome and you don’t even ask him his name?” Athena asked, searching through her tools as they lay scattered across the living room floor.<br/>“I was on the run, ‘Thena! Besides, maybe he would’ve called the cops the minute he saw…” Apollo gestured to his half-dismantled arm, propped up against the couch as Athena fidgeted with the tangle of wires within. “...y’know.”<br/>Athena sighed, and Apollo ignored the pitying look she gave him as her nimble fingers adjusted the instrumentation of his arm. Athena was amazingly smart, a genius with AI and, unfortunately, one of the most emotionally intelligent and empathetic people Apollo knew. Which meant this interrogation wasn’t going to be over any time soon.<br/>“Well, even if he did notice, he seems like the type of guy to understand,” Athena said, cursing as an errant spark landed on her forearm. “Flex your fingers for me. Why don’t you just go back and explain? Something like <em>Oh, I’m so sorry that I ran out while you were trying to seduce me, but I was just trying to protect my genius friend’s technology from being discovered by the government, would you be free this week to go ou</em>--hey, that’s not what I meant when I said flex! Rude! Put your middle finger down, Apollo.”<br/>Apollo laughed, watching Athena adjust the interfacing of his arm with the focus of a well-trained surgeon. He’d been lucky that she knew a friend of a friend who could install his prosthetics without completely bankrupting the entire agency, and even luckier that she’d stuck around for the weeks after his surgery, hobbling around the tiny apartment, sick with pain as the new cybernetics healed, fusing in new places between muscle and bone.<br/>Against his better judgement, his mind wandered to his chance encounter with that kind stranger, how unafraid of Apollo he’d been. Would he still feel the same way if he saw Apollo? Really saw him, a mess of guilt and pain and metal? No. He’d probably kick Apollo out, disgusted at best. He didn’t want to think of the worst-case scenario.<br/>“Hey, Polly, stop being so mopey because you ran away from a cute guy. I can <em>hear</em> you thinking.” Athena ruffled his hair playfully, but her eyes were serious. “Apollo...who you are isn’t less than anybody else. One accident doesn’t erase your entire career, or your family, and it could never change who you are in here.” Athena poked at his chest.<br/>“If anything, you’ve got enough personality for two people! Your prosthetics are a part of you, but that’s not the whole story. They don’t make you any less kind, or smart, or…”<br/>“...Loud?” Apollo offered. Athena grinned bashfully.<br/>“I mean, I was trying to make you feel better, but that works too.”<br/>Apollo snorted. Athena rolled her eyes. “Let me cheer you up with a cheesy best-friend speech, Polly! That’s what friends are for!”<br/>“I know, I know,” Apollo said, and he watched the flexing of the exposed micropistons in his forearm as he wrapped his metal hand around hers. “I can never thank you enough, ‘Thena. You’re my best friend, too.” He tried not to think about how cold his hand probably felt in hers, how a mess of cybernetics and wires replaced what was once tendons, muscle, blood. Real warmth.<br/>“Aww, don’t go getting all sappy on on me. That’s my job! Speaking of, I think I’m done with your readjustments.” Athena pressed the button near his wrist, tucking her multitool behind her ear as a smooth array of panels slid over his circuitry, locking shut with a hydraulic hissing noise.<br/>“Does that feel better? I have a reprogrammed fine motor module I’ve been working on, but I think lowering the sensitivity on your current operating system will work for now. I also have another update for Poll-E that should help out if you end up running from the police again.” Athena handed him a tiny blue chip, her familiar signature of Widget’s face stamped on the underside. “I set it up so you can download it instantaneously--you should be up and running in a snap!”<br/>“What would we do without our resident technopunk,” Apollo said as he slid the chip into the small hub Athena had installed in the crook of his arm. Poll-E hummed in excitement.<br/>“I prefer morally grey, in the words of our spiky-haired friend,” Athena laughed. “Anyway, I’ve gotta jet--Junie says she finally got the hydroponics set up on the patio, so maybe we’ll have some vegetables to bring over next time!”<br/>“Sounds great--say hi to her for me.”<br/>“Will do, Polly!” Athena turned to the door, but not before sweeping Apollo up in one of her signature bone-crushing hugs. For once, Apollo was glad that he was mostly metal. “Be kind to yourself, okay? Promise me.”<br/>“I’ll try,” Apollo said into her shoulder, and waved goodbye as she left, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. He knew that he should go apologize. Athena was right. He would probably understand. Apollo felt his heart flutter in his chest. No! He couldn’t...shouldn’t...feel this way. Apollo took a deep breath and tried to think about how the shopkeeper’s face would probably twist in disgust if he saw his prosthetics. Anything to avoid thinking about what had actually happened; those kind blue eyes, the song the man had been humming, the hand that helped him up without reservation.<br/><em>Stop being an idiot,</em> Apollo thought. <em>Treat him like any other client.</em> He’d just have to insist on paying the man, this time, to silence the guilt gnawing at his chest. It was just a transaction, and then he would never have to set foot in the shop again. So why did it feel so...bad?<br/>“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Polly?”<br/>“Gah!” Apollo practically fell off the couch, catching himself on the corner of the overstuffed sofa. “Oh, sorry Trucy. I just have an...errand I have to run. I was, uh, going to try and find that coolant that I couldn’t get last time.”<br/>Trucy cocked her head at him. “Hmm...is that it? Why’re you so worked up then?”<br/>Damn Trucy and her perception! Apollo had a moment of deep-seated relief that Trucy wasn’t interested in becoming a lawyer. “Uh...just…” he looked down at his arm. “...stuff.”<br/>“Stuff, huh.” Trucy raised an eyebrow. Apollo started to sweat. Trucy still looked worried, but it was replaced in an instant by her trademark stage-worthy smile. “Well...if you say so! Daddy’s out with Edgeworth talking over their latest case, but he said he’d bring the new Steel Samurai screendrama for us to watch together tonight! So hurry back, ‘kay?”<br/>“Alright.” Apollo’s heart swelled with fondness for his sister, and he pulled her into a hug. “I’ll be as safe as I can.”<br/>“You always are, you big dork. Now go out there and get me some robot parts!” Trucy helped him into his coat and practically shoved him out the door. “Love you!”<br/>“Love you, too, Truce,” Apollo said, and turned to the city with a renewed vigor.<br/>This time, he was more careful. There was a bullet train station where the attendants would look the other way if you flashed them a couple credits, and while it was risky, it was cheaper than a light taxi. Apollo watched the city flash by in streaks of blue and silver, mentally scanning the upcoming stops for police traffic with the help of Poll-E.<br/>Without a day’s worth of errands to run (or running from the police), it only took Apollo twenty minutes to find the blond man’s shop. Standing outside the cluttered storefront, Apollo looked up at the brightly flashing sign. “The Gavin Family Music &amp; Menagerie, huh? I wonder if that guy is Gavin, then…”<br/>Bracing himself for the inevitable awkwardness, Apollo pushed forward into the shop. A soft chime sounded from above the doors as they slid open, and the man behind the counter glanced up at him before his face burst into a broad smile.<br/>“Herr Forehead! How good to see you again,” the man said, waggling his eyebrows. “Just couldn’t stay away, hmm?”<br/>“Well, yes, uh--no! Definitely not! I just...uh...came to...apologize! Yes!” Apollo felt himself flushing, but he couldn’t stop. Taking a deep breath, Apollo shouted, “I am very sorry for disturbing your business! I was escaping from a...situation and you kind of got caught in the crossfire. I hope that you will accept credits as adequate expression of my apology!”<br/>The man stared at him, and Apollo realized he’d been a bit...loud. He cursed his chords of steel for ruining the moment, curling into his coat as his heart pounded in his chest. In a moment of nauseating deja vu, Apollo wished to disappear yet again. <em>Well, just blew that. Why did I even show up?</em><br/>This man possessed an ungodly amount of patience, for he merely shook his head and said, “I have told you already, mein liebe, I do not require financial repayment. Merely your beautiful face in my beautiful shop is enough. Frankly, I should be the one apologizing for not allowing us to be introduced properly. My name is Klavier Gavin, and I am a second-generation owner of this shop. Feel free to look at whatever you’d like.”<br/>Apollo stared. “Uh...It’s...nice to meet you, Mr….Gavin. Yes! Uh, nice to meet you. My name is Apollo Justice. Thank you for your...understanding.”<br/>Klavier smiled, somehow even more cheerful than before. God, Apollo wanted to stay here forever, with his boundless patience and easy demeanor and beautiful eye--wait, what? <em>Focus, Apollo.</em> He shook his head. Maybe a look around the shop was in order. He hadn’t gotten the best glimpse of it the last time he’d been inside, anyways.<br/>Turning to look at the displays, Apollo realized that the shop was much more cluttered than he had originally realized, but it was far from claustrophobic. It was almost...cozy, in a strange way. The store was divided into two parts: one half with all sorts of musical instruments, datascreens programmed with chords for the latest pop songs and the like. The other half had more practical things. Bags of instant-pop corn. Datascreen chargers, spare wires, e-reader pamphlets with various maps of the city. A small cooler filled with drinks. It was such a strange place, but being here felt so…<br/>“...Nice,” Apollo half-muttered, looking at a display of different machine-repair adhesives.<br/>“Are you in any need of assistance, Herr Forehead?” Suddenly, Klavier was right next to him, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. <em>Why are you so kind?</em> Apollo wanted to shout, but figured he’d done enough damage today by running his mouth. Instead, he stammered, turning a bright shade of red while Klavier looked at him with an expression nearing amused bewilderment.<br/>“It is not a problem if you cannot find what you need, Herr Forehead. I realize now...you are here for a little something more than music, ja?”<br/>“Uh,” Apollo said eloquently. “I mean….yes?” He had come to redeem himself, after all.<br/>Klavier beamed at him, and Apollo felt like he would faint on the spot. <em>God, I am so screwed.</em><br/>“Here. Hold on a moment, and I will show you the rest of my stock.” Klavier took him by his hand (his prosthetic hand! Apollo’s brain was yelling, but his heart was thumping too loud to notice) and led him to an ordinary-looking wall display of Snackoos.<br/>“One moment, if you please.” Klavier pushed aside a few bags of the chocolatey snacks to reveal...a keypad? Wait, what did Klavier think he was here for?<br/>And then all thought left Apollo’s head as a portion of the wall slid open, revealing a well-lit metal passageway filled with the faint sound of...rock music?<br/>“Achtung! I know exactly what you need, mein schatz! It is such a pity that I could not have met you sooner to provide my services. Or maybe you had prior connections? Oh, I will not entertain such a thought. It would make me jealous!” Klavier just kept...talking...leading him down the passageway, never once letting go of Apollo’s hand, until they reached…<br/>“Holy shit,” Apollo said, staring at the room he’d just entered.<br/>“Indeed, Herr Forehead. I have amassed an impressive collection of...let us say...items of a certain contraband nature. It is my pleasure to show you the true side of The Gavin Family Music and Menagerie: Neo Olde Tokyo’s largest existing physical collection of music and law.”<br/>The room itself was--was--it was incredible.<br/>Apollo had heard stories of collections like this, but he’d always dismissed them as urban legends. Something too impossible, too beautiful to be real.<br/>But now? Standing in this well-lit room, filled with books and records and instruments he’d never seen before…<br/>“This is amazing, Klavier. It’s…” Apollo turned to a nearby bookshelf, stretching a hand to the dozens of titles he’d heard only whispers of. “...May I?”<br/>“Of course, Herr Forehead,” Klavier smiled.<br/>Apollo pulled a book off the shelf. An actual, physical book. He flipped through the pages, feeling their weight, the dark print of the letters. God, it even smelled real! Apollo felt faint. He traced the printed letters on its spine, reading its title: Japanifornia Supreme Court, An Official Transcript of Cases Years 20XX-20X1. And it was only the first volume!<br/>“How did you--? But why--? I thought real books were banned years ago!”<br/>Klavier shook his head. “I am a lover of art, Herr Forehead, in all of its forms. Call it fate, but over my years certain...pieces have come into my collection. I feel it is my duty to preserve them, to keep them safe from those who would seek to destroy them. Look at all this beauty. It’s intoxicating, isn’t it?” Klavier swept a lock of hair out of his eyes, looking at him intently, and Apollo felt like he wasn’t just talking about the books. Unable to stand such intense focus, he turned to another shelf and was soon swept with excitement.<br/>“Oh my god, yes! Wait--you have a first edition of the codified laws of Borginia? Physical transcripts of the most contested defense cases from pre-digital years? These are complete sets--they must be worth millions! And…” Apollo approached the instrument from where it rested on a metal stand, brushing his fingers over its neck. A soft strum filled the air and his knees felt weak. “...a real guitar? Like, really real?”<br/>Klavier looked positively radiant. “I will play for you sometime, if you’d like.”<br/>Apollo couldn’t see himself, but he was sure he looked like a lovestruck fool. “I--I--”<br/>But like his last encounter with Klavier, it came to an end all too soon. Apollo realized what he was doing. Where he was. Had he lost his mind?! Even if (patient, kind, not too hard on the eyes) Klavier had decided to show him his (extensive, precious, illegal) collection, there was no telling how he’d react to Apollo. Apollo wasn’t something rare. He was a lawyer, and a pathetic one at that, one who had shut himself away from the world. A freak of nature, outcast amongst the high-tech world he lived in. Apollo thought about Poll-E, the masking that shrouded him every waking hour. The prosthetic screens that covered up ruined skin, the messy scar where his prosthetic met his shoulder, the scars that covered his right eye that he hid so religiously…<br/>No. This room was full of beautiful things. Klavier was one of them. Apollo was not.<br/>But Klavier must have sensed his hesitation, because he grabbed Apollo’s hand and held it to his lips.<br/>“Herr Forehead, you must stop creating an enemy out of the world. This city we call home...it can be daunting, but you must open yourself to danger. It is only then that you will find the capacity to love.”<br/>And with that, he kissed the knuckles of Apollo’s hand. The metal one. The ugly thing, made of fused sheets of titanium, hiding a mess of tissue and cybernetics underneath.<br/>And here Klavier was, looking at him like he was precious. Apollo thought he would cry.<br/>Klavier’s voice was low and soft, and his fingers rubbed across the silicone webbing between Apollo’s knuckles. Apollo stood, slack jawed, unable to respond or think or do anything more than just---<br/>Just <em>be</em>.<br/>He hadn’t felt like this since before the accident.</p><p><br/>“I think you have me mistaken for another kind of man, Apollo. I am not afraid of you. In a world that is so mundane, I desperately seek out art. Beauty. Hence why I think we have been drawn to each other in this way.”<br/>“I--”<br/>“Do you believe me, Herr Forehead?” Klavier looked at him. Like, really looked at him. Taking into account the modifications he must know were there...and he didn’t mind. He seemed to embrace it, actually. “Art cannot exist unless it is recognized by itself. Wouldn’t you say, Apollo?”<br/>“I…” Apollo’s mind was racing. Half of his mind was screaming to shut up and let Klavier kiss him already, while the other half was screaming for him to turn tail and run. It was something about the feeling of Klavier’s calloused palm in his that made all practicality short-circuit.<br/>Unfortunately for him, Poll-E had other plans.<br/><em>Sensing extraneous amounts of physical and emotional stress,</em> it chirped. <em>Engaging new defense protocol.</em><br/>And then Apollo slapped Klavier. Hard. With the very hand he’d been holding.<br/>“Oh,” said Klavier.<br/>“I’m--I’m--I’m sorry,” Apollo said, and then he turned and ran out of the room.<br/>“Herr Forehead!” Apollo could hear Klavier shouting after him, but he couldn’t bear to face him in his...current state. <em>Beautiful?</em> If you want to describe a bullet train crash, then maybe, Apollo thought bitterly, and ran without turning back.<br/>He didn’t stop running until he was practically halfway across the city, tears streaming from his good eye. <em>Stupid, stupid, stupid.</em> It seemed like all he could do was screw things up. Stumbling for the closest station, Apollo took the bullet train home and didn’t say a word for the rest of the day.<br/>Later, curled up on the couch with Trucy, Mr. Wright, and Edgeworth, Apollo thought about Klavier. He made up his mind, right then and there, that he could never show his face to Klavier again. His prosthetic arm ached, and he felt sluggish and dumb.<br/>“Everything okay, Polly?” Trucy asked, half-asleep and drooling on his shoulder.<br/>Apollo swallowed. He had all he needed at the Agency. He looked over at the couch, at Trucy’s drowsy face wrapped up in her cape, Wright and Edgeworth holding hands under the thick blanket. <em>Do I deserve something like that?,</em> he thought, watching as Wright said something, Edgeworth shushing him with an only half-serious scowl. <em>No.</em> But it had felt so good, so <em>right</em> to be in a forbidden room, with a handsome, kind man rubbing his knuckles and calling him precious. However nice it felt, that wasn’t his place. He was a fool to think he’d belong anywhere other than this small apartment.<br/>“I’m fine, Trucy,” Apollo said, and he ignored the way his bracelet tightened around his wrist.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. better to be hated</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was three weeks before he ran into Klavier again. In order to distract himself, Apollo threw himself into finding new cases, surprising everyone at the Agency. After the courtroom bombing and Clay’s death, Apollo had withdrawn from work. He kept rejecting new clients, shouting<em> I’m fine!</em> When he was anything but, mouth full of words from his dead best friend. But now, work was the only thing that seemed to interest him. It was either that or think about how during the two times he’d met one of the most beautiful men in his life, he’d made a mess of his shop, yelled at him, and slapped him in the face. Yup. Casework it was.<br/>Turns out a hard reset was just what he needed. Although he kept out of the public eye, avoiding large court settlements for smaller, more trivial matters, it felt good to be working again, pulling apart contradictions with his trusty bracelet at his side. He’d even started practicing his morning Chords of Steel warm-ups again, much to Trucy’s chagrin.<br/>So, a new case. A man’s husband was dead--and he’d suspected the family cleaning droid had done it, despite violence being strictly programmed out of its protocol. Apollo had just finished up interviewing the neighbors (the programmer in the apartment above was definitely suspicious, he’d decided), and things were going well. Humming to Poll-E’s radio stream, Apollo hit up Eldoon’s for lunch, slurping up the salty broth like it was liquid gold as he wandered through the city. He cut through one of the city-sanctioned parks, squinting up at the sun to watch the passing clouds.<br/><em>Only two weeks until the 574th annual Neo Olde Tokyo Pride Festival!</em> One read. <em>Parade submissions open through May 29th!</em><br/>Apollo smiled, thinking about the first Pride parade he’d ever been to--Mr. Wright had taken him and Trucy to meet up with an old friend of his, a tall, cheery girl named Maya. They’d met up with Maya and her girlfriend in the central plaza, and Mr. Wright had bought him a holobutton that flipped between the gay pride flag and <em>Love is Love!</em> In cheery yellow letters. He’d been young, freshly out of the closet, and terrified to be on such an informal basis with his employer, but by the end of the day, crowded among other festival-goers for the ending parade, his cheeks hurt from smiling. Even Maya’s girlfriend, a terrifying young lady named Franziska who’d brought an actual whip to Pride, seemed content, wrapping her arms around the acolyte’s waist as the sun set.<br/>“You know, Polly, I’m really glad you came to work with us!” Trucy said, lighting a e-sparkler with a flick of her thumb and watching it cycle through a rainbow of neon colors. “Daddy is always talking about watching out for one another. I’m glad that you can be yourself with us, y’know?”<br/>Apollo’s heart felt full and warm, and he threw an arm around Trucy. “‘Course, Trucy,” he said, watching Mr. Wright and Edgeworth pin pride holobuttons on each other, Fraziska turning a mortified shade of pink as Maya pressed a kiss to her cheek. “We’re family now, right?”<br/><em>Family…</em></p><p><br/>Apollo wandered through the park, watching messenger bots flit through the summer sky. What would it be like to make their family a little bigger for Pride this year? And suddenly, he was back to thinking about Klavier, all lean and tan, with that pseudo-Euro accent and beautiful, forbidden music and God, Apollo was so gay. Watching the parade from the holoscreen in the Agency, pulling him close for a kiss as the last of the parade floats passed by onscreen--<br/>“Thief!!” Someone cried, and Apollo was violently snapped out of his (pleasant, very homosexual) daydream. “That damn droid stole my purse!”<br/>Apollo blinked slowly, stepping out of the way just in time to avoid being run over by...hold on, wasn’t that the cleaning droid from the case he was investigating? What was it doing here? With someone’s purse?<br/>All thoughts of Klavier aside, Apollo took off after the droid, coattails flapping in the wind. “Get back here!” he yelled, knocking over passerby and at least one of those damn digital Chihuahuas in his chase. “This sure as hell isn’t in your protocol!?”<br/>The bot didn’t seem to care, though, and sped onward, purse clutched tightly in one of its spindly mechanical arms.<br/>Apollo had to hand it to the family, their bot had to be one of the highest-caliber versions on the market. It swerved and sped through the streets, never slowing, never stopping, propelled forward by the grinding of its deep-cleaning brushes.<br/>And although the bot was only a singular piece of evidence in the case and Apollo had an inkling that the neighbor's twitching nose tic was more than seasonal allergies, he’d be left eating ready-meals for a month if his client figured out he’d lost his bot. Unfortunately, while the bot was mercilessly fast, Apollo was not. He could feel a stitch beginning to burn beneath his lungs, and the droid was pulling farther and farther ahead by the minute. And it had seemed like such an open-and-shut case at the time...now everything was all upside down.<br/><em>Wait! That was it. Upside down….upside down…Mr. Wright always says to look at your case upside-down when you get stuck…</em><br/>Apollo suddenly had a very stupid, incredibly foolish idea. Hoping he could write the dry-cleaning bill off as a business expense, he thought, <em>Poll-E, locate nearest biofuel station.</em><br/><em>On it! The closest one is Bluecorp Energy Co., it’s coming up on your right,</em> Poll-E chimed, <em>And, before you ask, I already pinged ahead to the cleaners and they said this one’s on the house since you helped them with that hit-and-run case last month.</em><br/>“Perfect,” Apollo said, and as the bot sped around a corner he skidded to a stop outside the biofuel station. Though most transportation was electric, Neo Olde Tokyo also had a thriving waste-to-biofuel program, something Apollo was infinitely glad for in the moment.<br/>He saw what he needed at once: A large, coiled hose attached to a big tank of biofuel, the thick black substance shining in the midday sun.<br/>“Watch out!” Apollo yelled, and that was all the warning he gave before he grabbed the hose attached to the tank and pulled. There was a glorious sound, much like a cork popping out of a bottle, and gallons of biofuel began to spill out into the street.<br/>The effect was just as expected: when passerby began to clamor loudly about the mess, the cleaning droid zipped back around the corner, purse still clutched in hand.<br/>“A mess has been detected,” it hummed, its screen lighting up with a cartoon image of a broom sweeping back and forth. “Please keep calm as I tidy up!” Its brushes began to whirr as it slowly moved through the gooey mess.<br/><em>Perfect,</em> Apollo thought, and grabbed the droid as soon as it got close to him. “Hey buddy, we’re gonna take you home,” he said, remembering the list of commands his client had given him, “We’re gonna head back to the studio, okay?”<br/>“Command recognized--initiating Homebound protocol. Would you like me to follow you or route myself home?” The droid chirped.<br/>“Follow me for now,” Apollo said, “I’m sure there’s someone in People Park that misses their purse very much.” This felt almost too easy, he thought, and he turned around to head back to the bullet train stop. If he hurried, he could stop by the client’s house to drop off the droid without missing dinner.<br/>Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Out of the corner of his eye, Apollo saw a few digicops swarm around the puddle of spilled biofuel, the tank patched up with a hastily placed ‘Out of Order--Be Back Soon!’ sticker. One of them chirped, inquisitive, and a harried-looking businessman pointed directly at Apollo. The digicop turned and started heading his direction.<br/>“Of course,” Apollo groaned, and grabbed the droid. “It’s time to double-time it, buddy,” he said, and took off at a sprint.<br/>It seemed like Apollo had been doing a lot of running these days--the past couple days of gathering evidence for the case, running into Klavier, running away from Klavier after slapping him in the face…<br/>Apollo pushed those thoughts out of his head and ran faster. No time to think. Just enough time to escape the cops.<br/><em>Poll-E, where’s the closest place we can hide?</em><br/><em>There’s a store nearby that should do the trick! Routing fastest route...okay, take a left here and go all the way to the end of the street! It’s the second-to-last store on the left,</em> Poll-E replied.<br/>You’re a miracle worker, Apollo thought, pulling the droid around a corner and running into the store as fast as his feet could take him.<br/>“I’m so sorry to do this, IpromiseI’llbeoutinfiveminutesjustletmehidehere….”<br/>And with that, Apollo jumped up behind the first counter he could see, dragging the droid behind him. He hit the ground, hard, but the shelves looming above him told him he’d be well-hidden. Panting, Apollo peeked up at the man whose shop he’d barged into, and his stomach flipped in his chest.<br/>“We must stop running into each other like this, Herr Forehead,” Klavier said with a grin.<br/>“Um,” Apollo said, as astute as ever.<br/><em>Poll-E, what the hell?!</em><br/><em>Hehe~! Just consider it a little gift from ‘Thena to you. Now tell Mr. Dreamy how you feel!</em> Poll-E said, and then shut off without another word.<br/>“Poll--I--ugh….” Apollo slumped against the floor. “Hello, Klavier. I’m, uh, on the run from the cops. Again.”<br/>“Hmm. Should I ask what your line of work is, or will that lead to my insides meeting a tragic end in an alleyway somewhere?” Klavier said. To his credit, he was keeping marvelously cool. He moved around, restocking a few shelves near the counter Apollo was hidden behind, never once looking downwards or giving his spot away. And he was making jokes about it.<br/>Apollo promised that if he ever mustered the courage, he would take Klavier to the nicest dinner he could afford.<br/>“I’m, uh, a lawyer, actually,” Apollo said. “This little fiend”--he pointed to the quietly humming droid beside him--“is a big piece of evidence in my current case.”<br/>“Mein Gott! A lawyer. I have not dabbled in your world in quite some time, aside from acquiring pieces for my collection,” Klavier said wistfully, running his hand through his bangs without a second thought. Apollo’s heart thumped in his chest.<br/>“You--you were a lawyer?! What are you doing running a music shop? And, and your collection, and you’re too young and handsome to have done so much, and--”<br/>Fate was a shrewd mistress that day, apparently, because the chime from the front door sounded at just that moment. Apollo went silent. He could hear footsteps clicking on the floor, and his ears pricked. Maybe it was the owner of the purse, and they’d recognized their droid in the scuffle?<br/>“Hello, sir! My name is Bobby Fulbright, head of Criminal Justice Enforcement, Sector 073-1. So sorry to disturb you, but we’ve been investigating a large number of complaints in the area filed by our policing droids. You wouldn’t have happened to see a tall, brown-haired man in red pass by, have you? We suspect he may have illegal contraband on his person, and must swiftly bring him to justice!”<br/>Apollo’s heart dropped. <em>Please, Klavier, please don’t tell them I’m here,</em> he thought. <em>I’m too young to go to jail! I’ll never get to see Trucy perform again, or take on another case with Athena, or work up the courage to ask you ou--</em><br/>“Ah, unfortunately, business has been slow today, Herr Fulbright. Only a few customers have been through my shop, and none of the...bodacious nature that fits your description.”<br/>“Oh, that’s quite alright, sir! Do you mind if we do a quick sweep of your shop real quick? Just to make sure your business is complying with local standards in a just and proper manner!”<br/>“Hm...alright, but please hurry. I am afraid such heavy police presence might deter many of the artistic types that so dearly love my shop. They are...so frail, mein customers, like a morning drop of dew as it breaks upon the pavement.”<br/>“We will do our best! In justice we trust!” the man crowed, and Apollo couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “In fact, I will conduct the investigation myself. Units 073-1, go ahead to the next store. We must remain in hot pursuit down the path of justice, Mr...uh...Musician Man.”<br/>“Achtung, baby! I am indeed a purveyor of all things sonorous and sweet. And don’t you forget it!”<br/>“Ah! Uh! Yes! That is an excellent...uhm...instrument, sir.”<br/>“Oh? Are you interested, Herr Fulbright? I can offer this marvelous digital instrument--a full range of tones, portable without sacrificing any quality of performance--at a discounted rate for an upstanding man such as yourself. Or do you have eyes for the online harpsichord over there? Yes, let me extoll its qualities, how she sings like a caged songbird in the night…”<br/>It went on like that for a few minutes, the detective clearly growing more nervous and agitated by the second. All the while, Klavier kept chattering, asking the investigator if he would like to hear this instrument, consider a moment the dulcet tones of that one. It felt like forever, but glancing at the time display across the room, it had been less than five minutes.<br/>“No, sir, you don’t need to show me another one of those ‘e-chord’ thingamajigs, it is clear that your...uh...very unique store is up to standard!”<br/>Apollo could’ve cheered, but his heart almost stopped in his chest at what he heard next.<br/>“But first, I must check that your vending registration is not expired. I assume you have it posted at that counter over there?”<br/>Thankfully, Klavier was quick on the draw. “Unfortunately, the cleanliness of this shop does not extend to my bookkeeping. I am skilled in the world of sound, of soothing lullabies, of heart-stopping power ballads….but my paperwork….slightly less so. You would spend all afternoon looking for my registration, ja? If you will allow me a moment, I will produce it myself and you can be on your way!”<br/>Apollo heard footsteps and shuffling, and prepared to make a break for it once again. <em>Poll-E, boot up and get me out of here, any way you can,</em> he thought, but there was no response. Apollo wondered just how hard-to-get Athena had programmed Poll-E to be for this little stunt. Right now, jail time was the most romantic thing he might’ve been looking forward to.<br/>A pair of shoes slipped behind the counter, and Apollo looked up, hesitant, expecting fire and brimstone to come crashing down on his head.<br/>Instead, the cool blue eyes of Klavier met his, and he tilted his head in a barely-perceptible grin.<br/>“Allow me to disappear, Herr Fulbright. I do insist that you look at that harpsichord once more...you say you are not a musician, but you cannot deny how it calls to you! Like a temptress, you cannot look away,” Klavier said, ducking beneath the counter so he was eye-level with Apollo, smirking like he’d just sold the detective every instrument in the shop.<br/><em>Are you alright?</em> He mouthed, and Apollo gave a jerky half-nod in response. <em>Okay. Hold in there.</em><br/>And then Klavier...pressed his finger to Apollo’s lips, making a silent shushing noise. Apollo was sure his face was bright red, but Klavier’s face was shining like this was some sort of game, shifting through a stack of messily organized datascreens like things like this happened everyday.<br/>And then, just as quick as it had happened, Klaviver stood up, and the hand on his face pulled away. A soft, desperate noise caught in the back of Apollo’s throat.<br/>“Herr Fulbright, here you are! Renewed last year, perfectly up to par. I think that is all you will need for your investigation here to end, ja?” Was it just Apollo, or did he sense a bit of edge in Klavier’s voice? Like he was protecting something…<br/>“Ah, thank you!” Footsteps came closer, then moved away. “Terribly sorry to bother you, but remember: contact me if you are ever having any trouble finding the path of justice! Bobby Fulbright, out!”<br/>The door chime sounded. Apollo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.<br/>Klavier was at his side almost immediately. There was something...dark in his face, and Apollo wondered if he’d been mistaken in thinking he was safe now.<br/>But then it vanished, and Klavier had cupped Apollo’s chin in his hand, and he was brushing his sweaty hair out of his face. Apollo almost went into cardiac arrest.<br/>“...Apollo?” It took him a moment to realize Klavier was talking to him. “You are bleeding.”<br/>“M…?” Apollo lifted a hand to his head, and felt something warm and sticky at the edge of his hairline. He must’ve cut it during his frantic dive to hide under the counter. Somehow, after all the tension of catching the droid and almost being caught himself, Apollo didn’t have the capacity left in him to worry anymore. He let out a shaky breath, and his back sagged against the counter. His eyes felt heavy, and he just wanted to sit next to Klavier and….rest...for a bit. Yeah. That sounded nice.<br/>“Herr Forehead, please, stay with me, mein liebling,” Klavier said. He sounded worried. Why should he be worried? They were fine now. Everything was gonna be…just...fine.<br/>“Herr Forehead,” Klavier said, and there it was. He sounded...scared. Small. Nothing like the confident, flirtatious man from before. Apollo opened his eyes (and when had they closed, anyway?) and smiled weakly at Klavier.<br/>“S’ gonna be okay. I, uh...can take a...cab, light taxi. Takin’ it home. Got my cleaning robot and uh...ahh….” Something cold and wet pressed at Apollo’s forehead, and he moved to push it away.<br/>“Sssh, Herr Justice, it’s alright,” Klavier said, rubbing a damp rag on Apollo’s face. Oh. Right. He was cleaning up the blood, then. The water did feel nice and cool on his face. Apollo smiled again. He just wanted to keep smiling at Klavier, he was so pretty…<br/>“Please, Apollo, I know I am handsome, but please stay with me. I would prefer you court me while you are more conscious.”<br/>Apollo sat up a bit, wincing. He still felt tired, but he didn’t want Klavier to worry. “Y’can still court me,” he said, laughing. He was so funny. “I dun’ mind.”<br/>And if Klavier wasn’t courting Apollo, then what was he doing? He had straddled Apollo’s torso with his thighs, and his hands kept touching Apollo’s head, wiping it down, running his fingers over the cut, while murmuring things in that strange language.<br/>“Wha’ssat?” Apollo asked while Klavier was searching for something.<br/>“What is it, Herr Justice?”<br/>“The...words….never h’rd ‘m before.”<br/>“Hm.” Klavier tilted his chin up to dab at his head again with the cloth, and Apollo shivered. Klavier touched his forehead apologetically, and Apollo leaned into the touch. God, Klavier felt like the <em>sun.</em><br/>“They are from a language long forgotten amongst others...I used to know more, but it brought along some unwanted attention, ja? But never mind that. Keep talking to me, Apollo. You need to stay awake.”<br/>So Apollo did. He told Klavier about Trucy and Mr. Wright and the Agency, about how he’d stopped but it felt so right solving cases again, feeling like the truth was some tangible thing he could <em>touch</em>. Klavier seemed to like it when he talked about that. At some point, there was a bandage, and then Klavier was helping him up. Everything went fuzzy and white for a moment, and when the world slotted itself back into order again, Klavier’s hands were right there, holding him from behind, fingers laced into his. Oh. He was holding Apollo’s hand. The bad one. Despite his exhaustion, Apollo felt a wave of embarrassment.<br/>“...D’n want ya to see me,” Apollo said, while Klavier was helping him into a light cab.<br/>“What do you mean, Apollo?”<br/>“M’...broken, yeah? You’re...too...nnnnrgh…” Apollo flapped his good hand to convey the appropriate emotion. “Y’dun need me.”<br/>“Oh, I think you are very wrong, Apollo. I think I am one of many people who need you. And I know--your hand, your eye, you are always running from being found out, ja? Despite the….strange circumstances of our meeting...I would like my store to be a safe place for you. I want to be your safe place, Apollo.”<br/>“Tha’s...yeah. Maybe we could do that. I’ll hafta check my availability,” Apollo said, and Klavier laughed, even though he hadn’t been joking.<br/>“Well, I wish you safe travels, Herr Forehead. May our paths cross again,” Klavier said, blowing him a kiss, and Apollo beamed.<br/>“I hope our paths cross too, Klav,” Apollo said, but the taxi was already pulling away, fracturing into pieces of light so that Apollo couldn’t see Klavier’s smile.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. than loved, loved, loved for what you're not</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Things only kept getting stranger after that.<br/>That night, Apollo had a dream.<br/>He was walking through the Pride parade with Klavier. There were flowers in his hair, and everything had a soft, golden glow. They watched the floats pass by, wandering through the digital displays and watching them flicker, sun strobing the streets gold and pink.<br/>“This is beautiful,” Apollo said, jaw wide. “God, I haven’t been to a parade in ages--I can’t believe I stopped going out for so long.”<br/>“If only you could see the expression on your face, Herr Forehead,” Klavier said, threading his fingers through Apollo’s. “I would say it is a crime, to keep someone so wonderful so far away from the rest of the world.”<br/>“Mm, get all philosophical on me now, Klav. You’re just jealous that we didn’t meet earlier,” Apollo replied, and Klavier laughed, sweet as music. Oh, how he loved that sound.<br/>“Oh, look, Herr Forehead! It is your friends,” said Klavier, pointing across the street to Mr. Wright and Edgeworth, Trucy, Maya, and Athena in tow. Their arms were full of e-sparklers, pride flags of pink and blue and all the colors in between hanging from their collars.<br/>“It is! Hi, guys!” Apollo waved, and Mr. Wright waved back, beaming. There were flowers in his hair, too. Strange, said a quiet part of Apollo’s brain. There haven’t been real flowers in Neo Olde Tokyo since--<br/>“--Ah, you are thinking too much, Apollo. Get your head out of the clouds and back into my arms where it belongs!” laughed Klavier, pulling him in for a kiss.<br/>“--Mmph!” Apollo tried to protest, but Klavier felt so warm and safe, and everything smelled like flowers. He just stood there, kissing Klavier, head fuzzy with delight. He could live in this moment, he thought.<br/>They wandered around for a bit more, after that, Klavier putting some flowers in Apollo’s hair, big, white ones that were as sweet as perfume. Klavier kissed Apollo some more. Everything was perfect. They stopped at a street vendor selling flags, and soon a shimmery pink-yellow-blue ribbon joined the fray in Klavier’s hair. They ran through the parade, smiling and waving.<br/>“This day has almost been as wonderful as you, Herr Forehead,” Klavier said, and Apollo nearly dropped his hand in shock.<br/>“Aww, Klav...you can’t….you don’t mean that,” Apollo said, trying to brush it off with a laugh. A flower petal drooped into his face, and he sneezed. Why were there flowers? His arm hurt. The sun wasn’t setting.<br/>“Apollo…” Klavier said softly. His eyes were filled with pity. Apollo leaned towards him, tilting his jaw down to kiss him, because his arm hurt and Klavier was sad and neither of those things should be happening, why was this happening? And Klavier sighed and pushed Apollo away, and he had never done that...but he had never held Apollo like that at all, had he? God, his arm hurt. There were still flowers everywhere.<br/>“Herr Forehead, you didn’t forget what I have told you...have you, mein liebe? And it has only been a short while,” Klavier said, half-joking, but his eyes were serious. Apollo’s left arm throbbed.<br/>“Klavier...what? Why...why are there flowers?” Apollo reached to pull them out of his hair, but he gasped in shock as he looked down at his arm. It was a monstrosity.<br/>Looking at it made his head hurt, like his mind couldn’t keep up with the rapid flickering between skin and metal. Sheets of metal jutted out of his arm at crooked angles, and wires fizzed and snapped around his fingertips.<br/>“Klav--why--help me!” Apollo yelled, but Klavier was suddenly so far away, shrouded in flowers. The air, once sweet and calming, grew oppressive and heavy with its sickly, candy-like scent, and Apollo found himself struggling to breathe. His arm was killing him--why was his arm like this? <em>I’m Apollo Justice, and I’m fine,</em> he thought weakly, but his vision was clouding and his arm hurt, oh how it hurt! He looked down at his arm, fingers shaking with pain.<br/>Metal.<br/>His metal arm.<br/>He’d lost his arm in a courtroom explosion--no--he still had his arm, he was a lawyer excited for his second-ever case, he was--he was a normal man who worked with his boss at the Wright Everything Agency, he liked the color red and blonde musicians--<em>due to the extensive damage to your upper body, amputation is recommended for your left arm and right eye--</em>this was wrongwrongwrong--<br/>“Apollo, you need to calm down!” Klavier yelled, but his voice was so far away. Apollo whimpered.<br/>“Herr Justice, you are going to be okay,” Klavier said, and suddenly he was right next to him, a warm hand tilting his chin up, wiping the tears away from Apollo’s eyes. “You need to remember what I told you. Do you remember?”<br/>“Klav, it hurts…” Apollo moaned, and cried out as another bout of spasms wracked his body. “I’m not strong enough to do this….”<br/>“I think you are strong enough to do everything, Apollo,” Klavier said, so soft and tender it hurt more than the screaming pain in his arm, and there was fire dancing behind Apollo’s eyelids, but he could somehow remember someone, somewhere saying that art wasn’t beautiful unless it recognized itself….or something like that…<br/>“Off to an excellent start, Herr Forehead. I am so sorry to have to leave on such short notice, but we will see each other again, ja? Parting is such sweet sorrow,” said Klavier, and Apollo didn’t miss the way he leaned forward to kiss him, like Apollo was the last person on the planet, someone worth saving. “Gute nacht, Herr Justice.”<br/>And then Apollo woke up, his arm tingling with phantom pain and his lips smelling of roses. He rolled over in bed, burrowing into the cool side of his pillow. <em>Poll-E, check time</em>, he thought.<br/><em>The time is 3:42 AM. Would you like me to recommend some music stations to help you relax?</em> It asked, and Apollo groaned.<br/>“No, thanks. Shut off until usual wake-up, please,” and once the program had bid him a cheery See you soon! he leaned up against the headboard of his bed, trying to piece together the remnants of his dream.<br/>There had been...flowers. It had been beautiful, hadn’t it?<br/>He had been beautiful. And there were flags, and a parade…<br/>The Pride parade, Apollo thought, smiling to himself. Now there were good memories. He brushed his hand through his messy bedhead, wincing as his cool metal fingers dragged against his scalp. God, he hated--<br/>“No,” he said, pulling his arm close. “That’s not fair. I...shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I can’t.” Somehow, it felt right to say. To be a little bit brave, if only in the silent sphere of dawn hanging in his room.<br/>“I am...okay. I am Apollo Justice, and I….am okay.” Flexing his arm, Apollo could almost hear the sound of tiny pistons engaging, wires relaying crucial data from the rest of his nervous system so he could do everything from running after rogue droids to...whatever had happened last time in Klavier’s shop.<br/>“Yeah. My arm is just...another part of me. Huh.” He’d never allowed himself to think of things so casually, though he wasn’t sure why. He felt oddly at peace. He rubbed over his metal knuckles with his good hand--no, they’re both good--and wrapped himself up in the covers once again.<br/>When Apollo would wake up for the second time that morning, he would have no recollection of the dream. He felt...energized, somehow, as if his sleep-addled memories had awoken a new part of his brain. He felt like a better Apollo somehow. Trucy would walk into the kitchen in her pajamas, nearly dropping her datascreen to the sight of Apollo whistling to Poll-E’s radio, making pancakes in the kitchen. He would yawn out a good morning to her, ruffle her hair with his prosthetic arm--something he never did. She blinked and wondered if she’d accidentally pulled a brand-new Polly from her Magic Panties at some point.<br/>“Did you sleep okay last night? You’re acting….strange,” Trucy said, swinging her legs under the kitchen table.<br/>“I feel okay,” Apollo said, and for once it was the complete and total truth.<br/>But that was hours away, and for now Apollo curled up on his bed and fell asleep to the smell of flowers.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. you're vulnerable, you're vulnerable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After that, Apollo seemed to keep finding reasons to stop by Klavier’s shop, even if it was for only a few brief minutes. There was an amazing conveyor sushi place a few doors down, and so sometimes Apollo would treat himself after a case, just happening to be close to Gavin’s, and it wouldn’t hurt to say hello since it was in the area.<br/>There was also that time he’d gotten so lost on the bullet train--just absolutely turned around, really, it was a miracle he’d managed to make his way off at a stop that was close enough to somewhere familiar. He went to a music store he stumbled by, asking for directions, and made his way back home with a spring in his step.<br/>Then Trucy had needed another part, and since the usual store was such a bust, he went out of his way to find a new place that, while farther away, carried a broader variety of tools and gadgets he could bring home to make Trucy’s eyes sparkle with anticipation.<br/>...So what if there was another shop fifteen minutes closer to the Agency? He was just supporting his favorite businesses, that’s all.<br/>Klavier never seemed to mind, too, always willing to chat with Apollo between customers, to flirt with him, an intense expression on those beautiful blue eyes.<br/>Apollo had come to realize that Klavier never half-did things; he threw himself into every practice with a burning passion, from selling instruments to keeping well-preserved copies of books that should have been eradicated long ago. And, of course, flirting with Apollo.<br/>It had become something of a game, now, Apollo’s eyes lingering a moment too long around the silver chain on Klavier’s neck, the heady pause of Klavier’s hands on his when he thanked him for his patronage. Circling each other, getting so very close, but never…<br/>Well, Apollo wasn’t sure what the next step would look like. He’d never been on a date. He couldn’t play any instruments, he was a horrible cook, he’d cried at the ending of the second Steel Samurai movie, and that wasn’t even taking in to account--<br/><em>No,</em> Apollo thought, <em>He’s seen my arm. He isn’t going to run away.</em><br/>And neither had Apollo. His arm had stopped aching all the time, and he found the need to keep his prosthetic masking up around the Agency less and less...important. He used his left arm for more, wore Clay’s coat less like a guard against the world and more like a powerful suit of armor. Sure, it helped hide the ungodly amount of illegal digitech Athena had installed from the discerning eyes of patrol robots, but it wasn’t for hiding from the rest of the world.<br/>“Not like it’s been easy all the time,” Apollo said, sitting on a stool after hours one Friday evening at Gavin’s. “It still feels...wrong sometimes, like I’m cheating some sort of arbitrary rule if I enjoy myself. But that happens less often!” He added at Klavier’s worried expression, “And I think I might...maybe...I’ll go out for the Pride parade this year.”<br/>Klavier’s face lit up in a grin, and he swept Apollo into a hug, spinning him around with a joyful cheer.<br/>“Oh, Herr Forehead, it is terrific to see you acknowledge how vunderbar you are. When I first saw you--”<br/>“You mean, when I ran into your shop and knocked half the store over because I was on the run from the police? Yeah, I vaguely remember that,” Apollo said, and Klavier snorted a laugh over the top of his head.<br/>“You’re such a dramatic little man.”<br/>“Takes one to know one,” Apollo said. He pulled away from Klavier, admiring how the setting sun lit his eyes, making them look as clear as glass. It felt like something from a dream, and for a moment Apollo forgot where he was. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but there was still that invisible string of tension holding him back, and what if he’d been reading the situation all wrong and--<br/>“Herr Forehead, has your mind taken off for another planet?” Klavier teased, but he was blushing. “Tell me what you are thinking, bitte.”<br/>Apollo swallowed, his anxiety sticking heavy in his throat. He knew what he wanted to say, wanted it so hard it made his chest hurt. It felt like he’d been taking tiny, slow steps towards Klavier for the past month, but he still felt so far away. He thought about the little glances they snuck each other, how Apollo would stay until the last train home just to spend another minute in his company. He thought of bandages and Klavier’s calloused hands, and how full of love he was for this wonderful, wonderful man, and suddenly there had never been an easier choice in his life.<br/>“Kiss me,” Apollo said. “I want you to kiss me.”<br/>“Mein liebling,” Klavier said, “are you sure?”<br/>But Apollo was already leaning forward, and then Klavier’s lips met his and the world exploded.<br/>It was--maybe Apollo just hadn’t been kissed in a while, and why was that, when kissing Klavier felt so amazing? Why hadn’t he done this earlier? His lips were soft and Apollo could smell his cologne, something musky and dark that Apollo might’ve found obnoxious in anyone else, but with him? It just worked. Klavier’s arms were on his waist, holding him close. <em>I’m not going anywhere,</em> it seemed to say.<br/><em>I am here to stay.</em></p><p><br/>And of course Klavier kissed like Apollo was the last drop of water in the desert, held him close and kissed him bright and passionate and happy--<br/>“I love you,” he was whispering against Apollo’s lips, tongue sneaking out to catch the corner of his mouth. “I love you, Apollo, I have admired you so long it feels like I was born with your love in my veins.”<br/>Apollo finally broke the kiss, laughing, leaning against Klavier’s chest with a sigh.<br/>“You are so. Incredibly. Cheesy,” he said, pressing a kiss to Klavier’s neck with each word.<br/>“Objection! You are badgering the witness, Herr Forehead,” Klavier said, but he was smiling. “I assume you have evidence to back up your claims?”<br/>“Just shut up and kiss me again,” Apollo said, and Klavier could do nothing but agree.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. you are not a robot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>“I forgot how loud the parade was,” Apollo shouted.<br/>“What? Herr Forehead, I cannot hear you, it is too loud,” shouted Klavier, and Apollo just laughed, pulling him closer. The sun was shining, the city was full of banners and flags of all colors, and better yet? Not a single digicop around, thanks to some...strategic legislature that one of Mr. Wright’s cases had helped bring to fruition.<br/>“Oh, there you are! You just wandered off, I was worried I’d find you in a corner with Mr. Eurovision 20XX macking each other’s faces off,” Athena said.<br/>“T-thena! That’s….” It had taken a month’s worth of arguments for Athena to coax her shy girlfriend Juniper out to one of the biggest celebrations in the city, but judging from her small, pleased smile, it was well worth it.<br/>“Ah, but there might be a grain of truth to her words, Fraulein Woods. It is...the pot calling the kettle black, is that how the saying goes?”<br/>“Oh, now you’re really dating yourself,” said Mr. Wright, walking up to the group, Edgeworth, Maya, Trucy, and Pearls in tow.<br/>“Objection! Although he is a bit self-obsessed at times, the defense presents eyewitness testimony to prove that Klavier Gavin does have an incredible boyfriend!” Apollo shouted.<br/>“The prosecution has no objections to this claim, although I believe Herr Wright was using another figure of speech,” Klavier said, but the rest of his explanation fizzled into slurred German when Apollo leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.<br/>“Only such foolish fools would so foolishly flaunt their foolish folly in public,” Fraziska scowled. She would have looked much more intimidating had Maya not been hanging off her shoulder, pinning a lesbian flag ribbon to her vest.<br/>“Oh, lighten up, Franzy. Hey! Look! The parade is starting!” Maya said, pointing to a blocked-off section of sidewalk where a small group of people had begun to gather.<br/>“Last one there is a broken-down bot!” cheered Pearls, and Trucy whooped and chased after her.<br/>“It is so wonderful that you have such a supportive family, Apollo.” Klavier’s eyes grew misty as he watched Mr. Wright and Edgeworth (attempt to) corral the group of rowdy teenage girls. “It is something I wish I could have been a part of, myself.”<br/>“Don’t be ridiculous,” Apollo said, pulling him close. “You’re dating me. That means you’re an honorary member of the Wright family, Agency and all. We’re kind of a package deal.”<br/>Klavier was silent for a moment, and Apollo wondered if he’d spoken too soon.<br/>“Apollo...sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve someone as vunderbar as you,” Klavier said, so soft Apollo had to strain to hear it amongst the noise of the crowd.<br/>“Really? But you’re always so confident, and you were a huge help when it came to me embracing my prosthetics….”<br/>“Well, I am a musician, Herr Forehead. I am well versed in the act of feigning skill in difficult moments.”<br/>“Hey! Objection!” Apollo said, pulling Klavier in for a hug, metal palm pressed against his cheek. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? I think you’re amazing. I know it’s easy to dismiss when someone else says it, but you are, truly, one of the best people I have ever run into. Literally.”<br/>“Apollo…” Klavier said, and he leaned into Apollo’s touch with a small grin. “Ach, look at me getting all sentimental.”<br/>“You say it like now is a bad time for sentiments,” Apollo said, motioning to the crowd around them. “Klavier, you have to be proud of who you are. You helped me love who I am--now let me help you. You deserve to be loved just the way you are.”<br/>“I know, Herr Forehead, I know. For now, I suppose we should take it a day at a time.”<br/>“And I’ll be with you every day, like it or not, Klav. These Chords of Steel are going nowhere.”<br/>Now it was Klavier’s turn to blush. “Oh, Herr Forehead, don’t…”<br/>Apollo smirked. “Too late!” He thrust his arm upwards and shouted, “Klavier Gavin is fine!”<br/>A few passerby overhearing his enthusiasm cheered, and Klavier turned an even brighter shade of red.<br/>“C’mon, you have to say it yourself or it doesn’t count, Klav,” Apollo chided.<br/>Klavier rolled his eyes, but he was grinning from ear to ear. “Klavier Gavin….is fine. He is, in fact, the happiest he has been for a long time.”<br/>Apollo smiled back. “If you repeat it for long enough, it gets easier to believe. Having a friend helps, too. That’s where I learned it.”<br/>“Ah, so it must be even better that my boyfriend taught me! Herr Forehead, I am a lucky man,” Klavier said, and grabbed his hand tight. “Achtung! We must reunite with the rest of our family! The parade is starting!”<br/>Apollo squeezed Klavier’s hand back, and with his Chords of Steel finding the rest of the group was no issue. He squeezed in to the front of the crowd, holding Klavier’s hand as the first of the digital floats began gliding down the street.<br/>“Glad you could make it, Apollo,” Mr. Wright said. “Here, take a sparkler.”<br/>Apollo lit his with a flick, passing one to Klavier. “Here you go, Klav. We get these every year to celebrate on the first day of Pride month. They’re kind of like a family tradition.”<br/>Edgeworth smiled. “And it is thanks to the newest member that we are here to experience the Pride parade in person.”<br/>“Ah, you flatter me, Herr Edgeworth,” Klavier said, and he lifted his sparkler skywards. “To Herr Forehead and my new family!”<br/>“To family!” Wright and the others cheered.<br/>“To pride,” said Trucy, Mr. Hat in full regalia waving a pride flag alongside her.<br/>“To love,” Apollo added, and he leaned in to kiss Klavier.<br/>And for once, everything in the world felt bright and perfect.</p>
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